Rescue 12 Responding, page 5
Jonathan captured a frail vein in her right arm with an IV needle and then attached a small blue cap to the end of the IV catheter. As soon as Jonathan had secured this IV site to her very sweaty skin, he picked up a small brown bottle labeled “Lasix” from his medical bag. He drew up the proper amount of the medication for this patient and slowly pushed the drug through the syringe and into the little cap at the base of the IV. Instantly the medication was within her arm and on its way to stimulate her kidneys. In about 15 minutes she would have a full bladder and hopefully, clear lungs. He smiled at his patient and said, “This medication should help you get rid of all that excess fluid in your lungs. It is Lasix, just like you already take, but at a much higher dosage. I saw that medication on your kitchen counter. Do you understand me?”
She looked up into Jonathan’s blue eyes and nodded her head. He reached for her other hand and held it for a second. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled at him. He felt the tension in her hand relax further, and gently told her, “You are going to be just fine, now. We are going to be taking good care of you and get you to the hospital quickly.” He squeezed her hand softly one more time before he let go. Jonathan looked at his patient’s face. The blue-gray color that had moments before filled her lips was now being replaced by the bright red color of fresh, oxygenated blood. He wiped the sweat from her brow and continued to watch. No further sweat appeared. He smiled back at his patient and then up at David, who was continuing to press the air into her lungs. David’s hand placement on the airway bag and the amount of reduced force needed to inflate her lungs showed that it was no longer as difficult to help her breathe. She was out of immediate danger, and they were now ready to go to the hospital. Quickly she was loaded onto their stretcher and driven to the hospital. Within twenty minutes the paperwork was completed in the emergency department, and they were back in service for the next call.
The ambulance left the hospital and began the drive back to their station. “Rescue 12,” 911 dispatch called. Jonathan grabbed a notepad, ready to write down the next call. “Rescue 12, we were advised you need to come to headquarters for a quick maintenance check on your unit.”
David looked over at Jonathan and groaned. Slowly he picked up the radio and replied, “Acknowledge, Rescue 12 now en route to headquarters.”
“So at least we’ll get lunch without interruption. What do you say we stop at the Tropicana restaurant on the way back from headquarters?”
“Sure, sounds great. I’d love to have a Cuban sandwich for lunch.”
Jonathan’s mind returned to their last patient. “So, how long were we on the scene? We really moved fast on that one.” David looked down at his paperwork. It recorded the exact time of their arrival on the scene, departure to the hospital, and arrival at the hospital. “Only ten minutes,” he said, turning to face his partner, “Good thing we got there when we did. Another five minutes and I bet she would have been dead. I’m amazed that she was getting any air into those lungs at all.”
“Yeah, and you got the ET tube in quick. But, next time I’m going to intubate the patient. You got the last two. It’s my turn next, ok?”
“Sure, got to be fair about the work,” David smiled. Jonathan still got excited about being a paramedic and doing the glory work. “You still need practice walking on water, though, so if you don’t get it on the first attempt, you tell me, and I’ll do it.” David’s tone jested in friendly mockery of his partner’s skill.
“What I can’t do on water, apparently we’re making up on raising the dead.”
Ed was almost home. He knew his wife was going to be surprised to see him arrive so early. He had decided not to rest over in Atlanta, preferring to get home to sleep after unloading his semi at the warehouse on Hillsborough Avenue. He was now within a mile of home and turned the radio on to his favorite station, 88.1 WJIS. One thing about traveling around the country, he knew how hard it was to find a good station, especially the radio hosts like these guys. Ed had come to consider them friends and had listened to them talk more than any other people in the world. That was the life of a driver, though, always alone except for the radio.
The hot Florida sun blinded his eyes. He looked for his sunglasses and saw them on the floor beside the McDonald’s trash bag. Glancing at the road while straining down, he realized the glasses were just out of reach. Unbuckling his seat belt so he could stretch just a little farther, Ed’s hand pressed forward, searching. At that moment, the light at the intersection turned yellow. With the glasses in hand, he quickly sat up, looked over the steering wheel, and saw the warning light. Instinctively, Ed threw down the glasses and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. Knowing he couldn’t stop in time; he decided to punch it and slammed his foot on the gas. The mighty engine roared as he accelerated toward the intersection.
At the same time, two lifelong friends were on their way to the Eastlake Mall, a few miles from their homes in Temple Terrace. They were busy talking about the sale at Dillard's and about their walk near the Hillsborough River when they were finished shopping. Mary Dell picked up the magazine that Waunda had lying on the back seat. “Hey, Waunda. I didn’t know that Warren and Melody’s pictures were in the Evangel magazine? They look really nice. Nathan is growing up so tall.” Her pleasant strong southern accent drew her friend’s attention from the road.
“I didn’t show that to you?” Waunda and Mary Dell talked daily, and the magazine had been out for over a week. She took her eyes off the road for just a second to glance at the picture of her daughter and son-in-law. Her mind wandered to her children so far away as she was approaching the intersection. “Look over on the next page, they’ve got a small article about them.”
“Waunda, look out! That truck ain’t stoppin’! Dear God, help us!” Mary Dell’s last words were lost within the noise of the crash.
“Rescue 12, what is your location?” 911 dispatch asked.
“Rescue 12, Hillsborough Avenue and 56th street,” David responded, and then commented to Jonathan, “I guess they’re in a hurry for us to get to headquarters. I wonder what they want.”
Jonathan shrugged.
Seconds later, two tones pierced the silence in the ambulance cab, “Rescue 12 respond to a car accident on Sligh and 56th street,” dispatch ordered.
“Rescue 12 responding.” David reached over and pressed the three red buttons on the dashboard, turning the lights and siren on. He slowed down for a second to watch the traffic respond to his noise and lights. No one slammed their brakes in front of him, so he accelerated and headed toward their destination. “So much for lunch.”
Driving up 56th street, they saw a light blue Mercedes that had been hit on the driver’s side by a semi-truck. “Rescue 12, put the helicopter on standby,” David said into the radio microphone. Dispatch acknowledged the helicopter status. David stared at the wreck as he spoke to Jonathan, “Damn, looks like work! You take the car, and I’ll look in the truck.” Jonathan nodded. David knew the odds of anyone surviving in that car were slim. He parked the ambulance as close as possible to the wreck, hopefully far enough out so that some inattentive driver didn’t run into the back of their unit.
“Rescue 12 on scene,” Jonathan notified dispatch as he exited the ambulance.
“Acknowledged.”
Jonathan walked quickly over to the car. Instantly, he noted two women in their late fifties pressed against the dash of the car. The Mercedes had absorbed an unbelievable amount of the impact, but the weight and force of the semi had overcome this state of the art, safety-engineered construction. A pale white bag rested over the steering wheel. The driver’s head lay upon the deflated pillow. The airbag had protected its driver from gross facial injury, but the door had been forced into the passenger compartment, causing bigger problems. Shredded steel from the front end of the semi-rested where the door had been. As Jonathan approached the car, he could tell it was going to take quite a while to free these victims. The car would have to be cut apart, piece by piece, just to get them out.
There was no time for that now. Jonathan slid his hand through the broken windshield and found the neck of the driver. He searched for a pulse and found none. She was not moving or breathing. He pulled his hand away and ran around to the passenger side of the car. The door was locked, and the windshield and window on this side were still intact. Jonathan pulled a small metal tool out of his side pocket. It looked like a ballpoint pen, but the tip was spring loaded. He placed the center punch against the window and pressed against the glass. The window popped, and the entire window pane cracked. He tugged at the hole he had just made, and the window crumbled in his hand. He pulled the sheet of crumbled glass back and slowly slipped his hand in to touch the top of the passenger’s head. She didn’t move. Jonathan frowned as he moved her cool body back against the seat to see her face. He touched her neck and again found no pulse. He glanced around her frame and noticed that the engine from the car was pressing against her broken legs and very little blood flowed from her wounds. Both women had died instantly, and there was nothing more he could do for them.
“Rescue 12 requesting a helicopter to the scene. We have at least one trauma alert. Will advise on other patients in a moment.” Jonathan heard David’s request from the portable radio that he wore on his side. He had a live one! Quickly, he pulled his arm out through the hole he had made and went to help David with the truck driver. Jonathan knew he would be needed there. Death already reigned in this car.
As Jonathan approached the truck, it was immediately obvious that the driver had not been wearing his seat belt. A large circle of broken glass marked the spot where his face had collided with the windshield. Bright red blood flowed down his deeply gashed face and filled his mouth. His head bobbed forward as his body unconsciously tried to bring in air through his bloody mouth. David was rapidly cutting the patient’s shirt off. He noticed a large dark ring forming around the driver’s lower chest wall. Each inhalation caused his chest to rise, everywhere except in that dark ring. There, the chest wall was pulling in toward his heart with each inward breath. David pressed softly against the ribs and felt the rubbing of broken ribs slide below the bruising skin. Blood ran down from the patient’s face and began to cover the exposed chest. At least, David thought, he was still breathing for the moment.
David and Jonathan moved swiftly to save the life of the man. They began the fight with Death once more. The winner would have to endure a hard fight. The boxing match began. The champion would have to endure the punch and counterpunch of the other. There was much to be done, quickly, but the prize in this match was a human life. And David and Jonathan were champions.
“It is appointed unto man once to die and then the judgment…”
Mary Dell reached over to Waunda and shook her. “Wake up, Waunda! Look at where we are!”
Waunda sat up and looked at her friend, who, for some reason looked much younger than she should. “Where are we?” Waunda asked.
“Look, look at the clouds and the stairs, and look, up there is a great, white throne. Waunda, we made it. This is heaven. We’re home!”
Waunda looked at the stairs and down at her hands. Slowly she rubbed them together. Just the feel of her own skin let her know whatever and wherever she was, was real. Her words were soft, an awed whisper. “I remember the truck, but that’s it.” She took her eyes off her hands and gazed with astonishment at her friend. “Mary Dell, look what’s on your head.” Waunda touched Mary Dell’s head. “You have a crown! It’s beautiful!” The sight of the crown seemed to make heaven more real, more believable.
“You have one, too,” replied her awestruck friend. “Look at the stones of purple and ruby. Your favorites. Waunda, it’s you. It’s beautiful!”
Waunda ran her trembling fingers up to her head. Slowly she removed the crown that rested there. Her eyes filled with excitement and expectation as this new reality touched them. They reached out and hugged each other. There was no room in this wonderful place for tears.
“Well,” mused Waunda, “There must be only one thing left to do. Let’s go up these stairs and lay these crowns at the Lord’s feet.” She released her right hand from the golden crown and grasped the hand of her friend as they began their journey home.
When they reached the top of the stairs, they beheld the Lord on His Throne and His Son, Jesus. Then they saw at the base of the throne two large treasure chests. Each was open, yet each was empty.
Waunda’s eyes moved around the scene, taking it all in. “Look, Mary Dell, our treasure is empty. Nothing we did mattered. I always feared that our work wouldn’t be good enough! Now look, we have no treasure.” Waunda’s words were broken and whispered. “We have nothing of our own to give to Christ!”
Mary Dell smiled and spoke with faith. “We made it here, that’s enough.” She grabbed the shoulders of her friend, “It’s ok! I really wish I had more to give to Christ, but this crown will at least be a token of my love. Come on.”
Each bowed her head and humbly approached the throne. For a moment, they thought that nothing they had done on Earth had mattered. But, when they reached the feet of the Lord, Jesus spoke. His eyes looked into Waunda’s eyes, penetrating her very heart, “Waunda, thank you!” Then, He turned to the left and looked at Mary Dell. His gaze touched her deeply, and His words were as soft as feathers, “Mary Dell, thank you!” Instantly, with these words, they received more than any treasure chest could ever have contained – unconditional love and acceptance from their Lord. He smiled at their understanding. Then, he spoke again to the two of them, “You have been faithful in a few things, come and rule over many.”
Waunda let go of her friend’s hand, and with trembling joy, placed her crown on the ground before her empty treasure chest. At the same time, Mary Dell turned again to see all that was surrounding her, then bowed down, took off her crown, and laid it before her empty treasure chest. Then the Father spoke, “Before you enter heaven, your works must all be judged.” A chill ran up the backs of the two friends. He continued, “Fear not, for before each word and deed are judged, I will send my fire and consume all that is of wood, hay, and stubble. Everything that has no eternal value will be destroyed. And, each deed that would separate you from me, each sin, will be cleansed by the perfect sacrifice of my Son’s blood shed for you—for you had called to me and asked for my forgiveness from your sins, and therefore are removed. Only those things done in My perfect love, and only those things that have been tried in the fire and endure as pure gold shall remain.”
A great Light suddenly grew from behind the throne, its brightness grew until it was a fire that wrapped around the horizon. From as far as the eastern horizon is from the west, the fire raged. In the twinkling of an eye, the fire filled the sky and then it was gone. When the fire passed, Waunda and Mary Dell saw a host of angels filling the sky as far as their eyes could see.
Then the Father opened the book…
… each deed, each spoken word, each thought, each tear shed, each act was recorded within the book…
“Mary Dell, it is recorded that you organized, cooked, and served at 431 funerals, weddings, and other various events. Waunda, it is recorded that you organized, cooked, and served at 512 functions. Some of the funerals were for those you knew to be saints, yet, you also served others when you didn’t know what they had believed, or what their end would be. You followed my Son’s example and were truly servants, even to the very least of my children. And as you served each of them, you served Me. You served them because of your love, your love for Me, as well as your love for My children.” The Father stretched forth his right hand and gestured to them to come, “Receive your reward.”
Waunda and Mary Dell stood speechless. They looked at each other, their minds racing with this revelation. Had it really been so many? Questions pierced their hearts; they heard themselves, as they had on Earth, question the value of their service. “Was it really so important, that it was remembered by their God, and recorded in the Book of Life?” They remembered how often their efforts were not recognized by their peers, rarely understood by their families, and even more rarely thanked. Then it began – one by one the angels came. For every cup of tea poured, every salad tossed, every roast cooked, every card sent, every call of encouragement, the scene was followed by an angel’s movement. One by one, they came, each holding a ruby, diamond, or other precious jewel or gold, each bowing down before them and placing the treasure within what had been their empty chests. Each woman saw the scenes of her life replayed so that all present could witness each act and thought that passed as a vapor on earth.
Waunda and Mary Dell watched with eyes of wonder. Their treasures mounted higher and higher until there was no room within the golden chests to contain it all. They held onto each other for support, overcome with joy. Truly, nothing was left for them to desire. Their joy was complete: they had entered their reward.
Then the Son spoke. “Mary Dell, Waunda, there is one thing I would ask of you.”
“What could we give to our Lord?”
“All these years, I have seen you cook the roast, black beans, and rice. Because the food was cooked in love, each time the aroma reached the very throne room of heaven.” Jesus stopped and rubbed his mouth with his hand, smiling. “Would you cook this meal, just one more time? Just this once… for just you and me.”
Children played in the fields near the crystal river. The golden streets were filled with saints on their way to greet their newly arrived co-laborers. And joy filled the hearts of all… as the aroma of roast and garlic filled the hillside of heaven.
The helicopter circled once more overhead. The firemen below signaled the exact spot for the landing zone on the high school parking lot located near this intersection. The Florida Highway Patrol stopped all traffic on 56th street.
